MissMatched
by Kneazle
Summary: All Hermione wanted to be was popular, well liked, and considered cool anything but the bookworm she was labeled. Now, in her final year, can she achieve that, or is everything just mismatched?
1. Chapter I: Brain Cloud

MissMatched 

Kneazle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, places, etc. belong to JK Rowling, Scholastics, etc. Avril Lavigne, "Skater Boy", owns the song from the CD "Let's Go". "Longview" is owned by Green Day, from the CD "Dookie", and "You Gotta Be" is by Des'Ree. New Found Glory belongs to whatever company owns them, as does Green Day, Sugarcult, and No Doubt.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: All Hermione wanted to be was popular, well liked, and considered "cool" – anything but the bookworm that she was labeled. Now, in her final year at Hogwarts, can she achieve that or is everything just mismatched?

Author's Notes: It's been a while since I wrote anything… and _Girl Midget_ wasn't going anywhere fast, so here's my newest story and idea, warped into something that was experience, and well… common sense and logic. Also note that this story is **FIRST PERSON**, a.k.a., all in **HERMIONE'S POV**. Updates won't be too often, since it's only the second day of school and I had homework in all of my classes. School is my number one priority at the moment, and writing will just have to wait until I get a break to write, like now. Thanks for sticking by! ~ Kneazle

  


CHAPTER ONE: _Brain Cloud_

                It just had to be raining. Of course, it was the perfect type of weather for my mood, make no mistake there, but I really didn't reckon that was the best way to start off the New Year (with capitals). Yet I hadn't looked out the window just yet, so I couldn't _guarantee_ that it was raining, but guessing that my room was really really dark and had a grayish sort of colour to it all, it wasn't too hard to guess. After all, I had been in this room for nearly seventeen years of my life, and I should know the seasons, weather patterns and all that crap like the back of my hand. 

                With that gloomy atmosphere, I slowly made my way out of my warm, comfy bed and padded my bare feet across my hardwood floor. **Note to self:** Don't get hardwood when you live on your own – very cold in the early British morning.

                I opened my wardrobe doors, grabbing some simple yet modest oxford shirts, but Hogwarts skirt and knee socks. I sighed as I did all this, wondering if this year was going to be any different than the last six, minus the fact that I was Head Girl now. 

                Head Girl. The two words rang in my head, as my eyes wandered over to where my Head Girl badge rested on my neatly folded black Hogwarts robes, which were on a single chair in the corner of my room. Last year I had been a prefect, like I had been in my fifth year, but Head Girl… that was more responsibility, more freedom, more _everything_. 

                I didn't know who was Head Boy, but I had a few guesses. Harry Potter, for one – he was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, all-around mischief-maker, and most popular, handsome, available guy in the school. Not like I had a bloody chance with him anyway. The other guy was Draco Malfoy, another fellow seventh year student of mine. He was in Slytherin, had that pale, brooding mysterious air about him, and enjoyed making my life a living hell – though not as much as Harry's. Evidently, they had been enemies since they met a second time (on the train to Hogwarts) when they were eleven. How can guys hold grudges that long? Gods above!

                Anyway, while my mind had been running around, trying to figure out who was going to be Head Boy, I had wandered downstairs to the delicious smell of waffles being made by my fabulous mother. She and my father both worked in the dentistry practice, in a very popular and renowned office in downtown London. We, safe to say, are well off, and I had never been denied anything in my life… we're sort of the upper class of London. 

                Before I continue on with my pointless rambling, I should tell you about myself. It would make things a smidgeon easier, don't you think?

                _My name_: Hermione Anne Elizabeth Caroline Granger. _Age_: 17 on September the 30th, which was currently 29 days away and counting. _Family_: My father, Doug Richard Granger, my mother, Julianne Shannon van De Burg-Granger, and my younger (non-magical) pest of a brother, Samuel Albert Granger, age 13 and going on pain in the neck. 

                I had known I was a witch since, well, early on. I don't really remember the first time I had known, but it could have been when I was four and had seen a unicorn up north at my Grandmother's farm. Or perhaps earlier when I played hide-and-seek with Cornish pixies. You can take your pick, wherever, whenever. I just knew, and it wasn't too much of a shock to receive my Hogwarts letter when I was eleven. My parents, however, were completely freaked out by it, and poor Samuel was traumatized by the age of seven onwards. 

                I was hyped to go to Hogwarts, and make some friends. Ah, the friend factor. Let's get something clear right now: From the ages 5-11, I had no friends. I was classified "the geek", "loser", and "the bookworm" from the early teasing ages, and those names had stuck. Very wounding. I could never escape it, and I had hoped that it would be different at Hogwarts. Excuse me while I go and laugh: ha, ha ha!

                It was no different. I boarded the train, all smiles and good nature, when Neville Longbottom (a Gryffindor) lost his toad. Kind as I am, I helped him find it. Unfortunately, I stumbled upon Harry Potter and his best friend Ron Weasley's compartment, just was the redhead was about to attempt some magic. Of course, I had to be curious and ask what he was doing and see it. When it didn't work, I got so proud and showed them that I could fix Harry's glasses, on to realize who he was, and gawk. Not very nice, especially on his first day of school. 

                Ron wasn't exactly helpful either, and I left feeling confused and wounded that they hadn't liked my show of magic. Maybe I just wasn't cut out to be a witch. I then stayed by myself in my compartment until it was time for us to leave. 

                I shared a boat with Susan Bones, and two other Hufflepuffs that I don't know the names of. Upon entering the Great Hall, I looked up at the same time as Susan and told her: "The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside. I know because I read it in _Hogwarts: A History_." I thought she was impressed at first, but she shot a glance to Hannah Abbott later and then a glance at me – one that wasn't a _nice_ glance. 

                Isolated, I stood by myself; waiting and watching the others get sorted, until – "Granger, Hermione!" I jumped up, sat down on the stool, and waited. 

                _Hmm… curious…_

                I was so startled I didn't know what to think, so the voice continued while I was petrified in fear. 

                _You have so much potential, Ms. Granger. You are loyal and sweet enough to be a Hufflepuff, yet I believe you would be bored there… Slytherin could do you well with your intelligence and ambition to strive for the best… and yet Gryffindor… you could be great you know, it's all there in your head, and Gryffindor is a place where you may find those true friends you seek, with your brave and courageous head-on attitude. But your intelligence and shyness makes me more inclined to announce… RAVENCLAW!_

                And so the hat was lifted off my head, and I drifted towards the clapping table. There, I sat down and turned my head to see the High Table and other students that still needed to be sorted. As I had drifted over to Ravenclaw, I realized with a start that it was now Harry's turn to be sorted. 

                Where would he be? I had wondered. There wasn't much known about him except that he is the only known person to survive the Killing Curse.        

                Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw! My mind screamed. Be in Ravenclaw, be my friend! I wanted to know him, ease the pain, loneliness and confusion from his eyes and guide him.

                "Gryffindor!" the hat screamed, and I deflated. Harry Potter was a Gryffindor, where the brave and loyal went. I was a Ravenclaw, dull yet smart. We were worlds apart.

                Six years passed and nothing changed. Harry was popular from the day he was born; everyone liked him, everyone loved him, minus the Slytherins. We didn't have many classes together, except Arithmacy and Ancient Runes by fifth year. I hadn't spoken to him since the day on the train, but I had noticed that his glasses never ever had the Sell-O-Tape holding them together again. That fact made me smile in the darkest of times… that was every day after our fourth year. 

                Voldemort had risen at the end of our fourth year, using Harry's blood (or so the rumors go). Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff, died that night too. I don't want to go over the details so I'll skip that and go right to the main points. 

                There were three girls in my year in Ravenclaw: Padma Patil and Mandy Brocklehurst, if you forgot about myself, though. Terry Boot and Christopher Moon were the only boys in our year that were in our house too… 

                Never mind that, though – what I need to tell you is that I was isolated right away. Padma and Mandy thought me weird, and Terry and Chris thought I was too much of a goody-goody. So that left me with my books and bright area of my room, alone. 

                Always alone, you see… always.

                But now that I had my own room as Head Girl, I knew that something was different. Maybe it was the feel of the air as I stepped out of our house, inhaling the mucky rain-filled scent that there was before a nasty thunderstorm, or maybe it was just all the electricity that I felt around me…

                If you asked me that now, I wouldn't be able to tell you. I still don't know what it was, but I knew that something was going to be different, and different in a _BIG_ way. Okay, Voldemort was still on the loose, okay, I still didn't have any friends. So what? This was my year, and I knew it. 

                I then stepped into our family car, glancing once more at the gray suburb. A splat of rain fell and hit my window was a loud _clack_, making me jump. 

                Oh, who was I kidding? I was probably going to fall flat on my face, get soaked and be made fun of by Malfoy twice before the day was out.

                Platform 9 and ¾ was packed with people by the time I arrived. Cats were meowing, owls were hooting, and somewhere in between all that and the chatter of parents saying goodbye, and students telling each other about their summer vacation, the Hogwarts announcer said, "ALL ABOARD!"

                I managed to find an empty place for my trunk and started towards the train's boarding door when the whistle blew and the familiar _chug-chug-chug_ started up. 

                Gasping, I began running along side the train, hoping to grab on to the railing handle. A few heads looked out the window, pointing and laughing as I did this – but I couldn't care less. I _had_ to get on the train, or else!

                Finally, when the train was just beginning to pick up speed, it paused for one second, and that was all I needed. I grabbed the handle, using my body motion to pull myself up onto the steps. Since it hadn't stopped raining, my hair was plastered to my head, my skirt and jacket soaked, and my breathing uneven from running down the platform. 

                I leaned my head against the cool metal of the red train, and calmed myself down as the train gained its required speed. The wind blew in the small train-boarding door, whipping my skirt around my knees, chilling me to the bone. I wouldn't be able to stay out here any longer, so I quickly opened the door and welcomed the warm heated bliss. 

                I walked down the narrow compartment, peeking in the door for an empty compartment. I finally found one, secluded from the rest, near the back of the train and storage compartments. 

                I had fallen backwards onto the seat, easing my now squeaky shoes off to dry. As I was about to pull my socks off, the door slid open and a head peeked in. 

                "Well, well, well, if it isn't Miss Perfect," said a voice. Glancing up, I saw the familiar blond head that belonged to the _darling_ Pansy Parkinson and her Slytherin girl gang. Did I mention that they also love making my life a living hell?

                I said nothing, but watched from my bent-over position what she was going on about. 

                "Did you get your daily exercise? I see that nothing helped you lose your weight – still a whale, you are," she snarled, baring her teeth at me. Her pale skin and dark gothic make up made her far scarier than she actually was, but I supposed that was the point. When I said nothing, she continued. 

                "Well? Aren't you going to say anything about that _stupid_ run you did? What were you trying to do, Hermione? Merlin – outrun the train?" she laughed harshly. "As if you could ever do that."

                She then waved at her girl gang and they disappeared as quickly as they arrived. I felt tears prickle at the corner of my eyes as the weight and panic of nearly missing the train slipped forward, and Pansy's hurtful words were just adding to it. 

_Listen as your day unfolds_

_Challenge what the future holds_

_Try and keep your head up to the sky_

_Lovers, they may cause you tears_

_Go ahead release your fears_

_Stand up and be counted_

Don't be ashamed to cry 

                I mouthed the words to the familiar Muggle song, hoping to push my emotions back. A Head Girl doesn't cry, or show her fears in front of others. That's considered a weakness… and if Malfoy came in now, I would break down and cry in front of him, no question. He would scorn me, and that would make things worse, because he would tell everyone. 

                Damn – another reason for people to make fun of me. 

                I didn't look up when the witch with the food trolley asked if I wanted something, nor did I look up when Neville Longbottom came in and asked if I was all right – he had seen my run and thought I was still clinging to the handle.
    
    _You gotta be..._
    
    _You gotta be bad, you gotta be bold, you gotta be wiser_
    
    _You gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger_
    
    _You gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together_
    
    _All I know, all I know, love will save the day_

                That chorus stuck in my head, right up to the point when we slowed and arrived at the Hogwarts platform, and beyond. It kept winding itself around and around, strengthening my self-confidence and made me feel good.

                Des'Ree was right – I had to be bad, bold, and wise to beat everyone at the game they were playing against me. I had to be hard, tough and strong against their words. I had to be cool, calm and I had to stay together if I wanted to achieve what I wanted…

                With that in mind, I stood, put on my damp socks and shoes, and squeaked my way out of the compartment, down the narrow passages, out into the gray and foggy countryside, followed my classmates and entered a carriage with three other younger students. 

                By the time I got to the Great Hall, most seats were taken. I spotted my House off to the corner, between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Of course, we just _had_ to be the mediators. 

                I found an empty seat next to Padma Patil, but just as I was about to sit down, she twisted in her seat, and slammed her booted heel down on the seat. 

                "Sorry, taken," she flashed a fake grin at me, snapping her bubblegum. I opened my mouth to argue, but Dumbledore chose that moment to say, "Please be seated! I have a few announcements before the we eat." Apparently, a couple carriage had been slow and we had missed the Sorting already – bugger.

                Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I nodded curtly once, and scanned the table for a free seat. I found one, just one all by its self, isolated and located in a dark corner against one of the Great Hall's tree-like pillars. I slumped down in my seat, crossed my arms, and leaned against the cool white marble, staring ahead of me, listening to Dumbledore speak.

                "Firstly, I would like to begin by saying that – in these times – the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden, to all students, and also to all Professors, unless absolutely necessary," he began in a somber voice. "On a happier note, I welcome a new Professor to our collection: Professor Paige Cardigan is our new Social Studies Professor. Those of you who took her course will find it to be very interesting." Dumbledore smiled, his arms resting on the table. When he glanced at me, I saw him wink; and thought: Great, does he know that I'm taking that class too? Am I the only student in the whole bloody school taking more than the required six classes?

                I was brought out of my brooding when he said, "… to announce the Head Boy and Girl now. The Head Girl is Ms. Hermione Granger of Ravenclaw, and the Head Boy is Mr. Harry Potter of Gryffindor. The Head Prefects are Mr. Draco Malfoy of Slytherin and Ms. Susan Bones of Hufflepuff. They can help all you students if there is a problem, and are always there for you. Now – eat up!"

                My meal appeared on my gold plate, looking a bit dull. Or maybe it was just I, in a dull spot, when no one was congratulating me on my achievement of making Head Girl. Draco, Susan and Harry were swarmed with friends and acquaintances offering their happiness for them, yet I sat alone. Wonderful. 

                Finally, I ate my meal, a very small portion mind you, and stood, leaving the Great Hall behind. As I passed Pansy and her friends, she went, "did we hurt your feelings earlier, Mudblood? Aww…" before laughing loudly with her friends. 

                I cringed as I walked by, my head high and eyes hard, facing forward. There was no way I was going to let her get to me, but by the time I reached the tapestry of Rowena Ravenclaw (where my Head Girl room was), I could feel the tears leaking out for the second time in the past four hours. 

                "Are you the new Head Girl, Hon?" asked the tapestry, looking kindly down on me. Nodding, I wiped my eyes hastily, as she continued to ask kindly, "What would you like your password to be?"

                Looking in every direction, making sure no one was around; I leaned close to the tapestry and whispered into Rowena's ear, "Spider webs."

                Nodding, she leaned back and the tapestry ruffled, revealing a hole behind it. I crawled through, and entered my domain. 

                I had a small study area, where there was a blue velvet couch, worktable and cushy armchair in front of the fire.

                An iron wrought staircase spiraling up led to my bedroom, in what I was to believe was a tower. Wonderful – I was a living Rapunzel. 

                As I clambered up the stairs, I spotted my head, the tears fell through, and I was soon sniffling them back, or at least trying to. Screw Des'Ree, I can't be bad, or bold, or cool and collected. I can only be myself. 

                I fell on the bed, and grasped the silk sheets tightly in my hands as sobs wrecked my body, making me take huge gulps of air. 

                It was then when I vowed to never again me that "whale" as Pansy called me, or the invisible "bookworm" I was labeled as since I was five… I wasn't going to go back into my room every night, after finishing homework that wouldn't be assigned for another two weeks only to cry. Hell no – I was going to do my damnest to lift my brain cloud and get into the right frame of mind. Have friends, be confident, enjoy my life and be social. I was going to do that and show Hogwarts just who Hermione Anne Elizabeth Granger really was – the kind, loyal, brave, fun and spunky girl that was underneath the bushy brown hair, wide chocolate eyes, big mouth and slightly buck-tooth teeth. I was going to start right away, with reinventing myself, becoming the "It" girl, and making everyone want to be my friend.

                All I… _yawn_, had to do was… _yawn, sigh_, was… 

                As the sobs slowed, and my breathing evened out to a drowsy sigh, I had one final thought:

                Aw, hell – I'll do this tomorrow.

*


	2. Chapter II: Motivation

MissMatched 

Kneazle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, places, etc. belong to JK Rowling, Scholastics, etc. Avril Lavigne, "Skater Boy", owns the song from the CD "Let's Go". "Longview" is owned by Green Day, from the CD "Dookie", and "You Gotta Be" is by Des'Ree. New Found Glory belongs to whatever company owns them, as does Green Day, Sugarcult, and No Doubt.

Rating: **R **(FOR LANGUAGE – THIS CHAPTER ONLY!)

Summary: All Hermione wanted to be was popular, well liked, and considered "cool" – anything but the bookworm that she was labeled. Now, in her final year at Hogwarts, can she achieve that or is everything just mismatched?

**Author's Notes**: **PLEASE READ!**  I know that at least one person so far has said that they hoped that "MissMatched" won't go clichéd – you know_, Oooh, she's so pretty now, everyone falls in love with Hermione_ **–** buck up! That won't happen. This story is going to be as realistic as I can possibly make it. Hermione's unhappiness in the story was **_my_** unhappiness, a couple years back. I suffered the same things that this Hermione is going through now (except the "fat" and "ugly" comments… I was called "too skinny" and still am called "anorexic" to this day). Hermione is a teenage girl who had no friends. A girl who doesn't have much self-confidence, or knew that people could actually be _nice_ to you. My Hermione is going to go through the same self-discovery as I had, and of course, things will end up happily, though we all know that nothing is ever perfect or ends "happily ever after"; we all wish it did. 

            So without any more a due, the next chapter to "MissMatched". ~ Kneazle 

CHAPTER TWO: _Motivation_

            When I woke up the next morning, it was sunny. Oh goodie, no rain today, and that totally brightened everything up – until I remember yesterday and my vow. How was I going to get people to see past my bookwormish ways? There had to be a mathematical equation to solve that… 

_Sit around and watch the tube, but nothing's on_

_Change the channels for an hour or two_

_Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit_

_I'm sick of all the same old shit_

_In a house with unlocked doors_

_And I'm fucking lazy_

            I soon found myself looking at my calendar, contently remembering that it was a dress-down Friday. These "Dress-Down Fridays" had been introduced in my fifth year, as more and more Muggleborns had been coming to Hogwarts. We were allowed to wear what we wanted (with mild consideration), and this was great for most of the female population. 

            I myself needed a nice kick in the butt to get my morning started. I was one of the few who woke up early (I really don't think five is too early… I mean, you need to have your hour of exercise, then shower, clothes, hair, make-up, then breakfast), and was already ready to learn. Or maybe it was just because I was a Ravenclaw. 

            So with _some_ motivation, I cranked my volume dial on my ghetto blaster, tuning to the CDs. Mr. C is actually a pretty good exercise method, when you truly think about it. Speed up the tempo, stomp your foot, hands on your knees and getting funky with it… yeah, that's Mr. C's "Cha Cha Slide Part Two" all right. 

            I left the blaster on while I took my shower, which woke me up to the third degree. After that, once I was done blow-drying my hair, I found myself looking in the mirror and wondering, _am I really fat?_ Well, technically, no – I'm not. It's just the view that has been installed in our minds from models in magazines and movies. 

_Bite my lip and close my eyes_

_Take me away to paradise_

_I'm so damn bored I'm going BLIND!!!_

_And I smell like shit_

            So, with some difficulty, I realized that maybe I should try some make up and see what the results were. I knew I wouldn't be totally hot, or drop-dead gorgeous, but I could try. 

            My mother, God bless her, had tried the following year to make me look good. She had taken me to Boots, and then bought tons of cosmetics, and then we went to a popular and expensive salon where they also did makeovers. Using the tips that they had beaten (literally, with the proverbial blush brush and mascara wand) into me, I tried to recreate the face that I had seen in the mirror that day. 

            It wasn't a super model, but it was someone who knew what was their best feature and knew what to bring out in the open by enhancing it. When I was done, I stepped back from the mirror, and surveyed my handiwork. 

_Peel me off this Velcro seat and get me moving_

_I sure as hell can't do it by myself_

_I'm feeling like a DOG IN HEAT_

_Barred indoors from the summer street_

_I locked the door to MY OWN CELL_

_And I lost the key_

            Okay, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil of Gryffindor could probably do better on me if they had wanted to, but for my first own attempt, that was pretty good.

            I had used black mascara to "lengthen" my eyelashes, and that looked fine. Subtle lipstick and gloss was used to my give lips a pouty look, and with my frizzy brown hair, the natural smudged green eyeshadow made my eyes stand out – which was what I wanted. 

            Satisfied with my look, I put on my robes and Ravenclaw shirt and skirt, slipping on my Docs at the last minute before heading down to the common room and then Great Hall. 

            Because I had been putting on my makeup, I was running a bit behind schedule. I would now walk in on the busiest time of the Great Hall breakfast. Everyone would be there, and I wasn't sure if I was confident enough to do this. But, I pushed through, Des'Ree in my head once more, and stepped through the doorway. 

            I walked down towards the Ravenclaw table, and sat in a seat on my own, away from everyone else. I buttered my toast when a shadow fell across my plate. 

            "Well, well, well, if it isn't the little fat Mudblood herself," sneered Pansy's voice. I glanced up, and there was a shocked silence, before Pansy broke into fits of laughter again. 

            "Oh my God, what did you do to your face, Granger?" she gasped off. "You look like an escaped clown from the circus! Oooh, Mudblood, were you trying to make yourself look better by wearing make up?" She then turned and walked away, leaving me staring silently at my plate. Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and a few Slytherins had overheard Pansy, which wasn't too hard considering she had nearly been yelling. 

_I GOT NO MOTIVATION_

_WHERE IS MY MOTIVATION?_

_NO TIME FOR THE MOTIVATION_

_SMOKING MY INSPIRATION_

_Sit around and watch the phone, but no one's calling_

_Call me pathetic, call me WHAT YOU WILL_

_My mother says to get a job_

_But she don't like the one SHE'S got_

_When mastur-bation's lost its fun_

_You're fucking lazy_

            Whispering started when I stood, gathering my books and keeping my head down as I walked towards the second floor loos. I knew that they would be empty, as Moaning Myrtle liked to haunt them. 

            I stepped in and found a relatively dry stall. Placing the toilet seat down, I sat on it and after a while of trying to hold the tears in, they leaked out. 

            I sniffed once, and then twice, before letting the sobs out. I heard Myrtle distantly laughing and crowing that there was someone else in misery other than herself, but I could barely hear the other voice until they knocked on the stall door. 

            "Hermione?" 

_Bite my lip and close my eyes_

_Take me away to paradise_

_I'm so damn BORED_

_I'm going blind_

_And loneliness has to suffice_

_Bite my lip and close my eyes_

_I was slipping away to paradise_

_Some say, "Quit or I'll go BLIND."_

_But it's just a myth_

            I sniffled loudly, before shifting my position in the stall to unlock the door and peek out. A girl, a year younger than I and in Gryffindor was standing there, looking concerned at me. 

            "What do you want?" I choked out, blinking back tears. "Come to tell me how fat and ugly I am too?"

            The girl looked startled before flushing a brilliant red like her hair. "No! Merlin above, is that what Pansy Parkinson always says to you? That you're fat and ugly? That bitch!"

            The tears had stopped, and through sniffles I looked at the girl. Slowly, I asked, "who are you? And what do you want?"

            The girl smiled at me, digging in her pockets before pulling out some Kleenex and handing it to me. "Here. I'm Ginny Weasley, a Gryffindor sixth year. I heard Pansy yelling at you, and saw you get up and walk in here. I wanted to know if you were all right."

            Surprised that someone would care about me, and that they wanted to know if I was all right, I looked up in shock. The whole thing was rather absurd. Did I look all right?

            Blinking in surprise, I asked that to the girl. "_Do_ I look all right to you?"

            My voice must have been sharp because she visibly flinched. "Sorry… well, I guess you want to be alone then…"

            As she turned, I found myself calling out quietly, "No, please don't go. Please."

            The Weasley girl paused, before turning around. There wasn't any hurt tin her eyes, as far as I could see, but pity and a soft, almost sisterly hue to her blue eyes. 

            "Now, why would I leave? We'll have to re-do your make up, now that it's all washed away," grinned the girl. "I hope you can trust me enough to say that… well, green isn't your colour."

            "Oh, gee thanks," I replied, sniffling slightly, but with a happy tone. "_Now_ I find out."

            The Weasley girl placed her hands on her hips and glared at me. "You know, there's the door, Hermione – don't let it hit you on your way out. I thought all Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart… you're acting real dumb right now."

            _That_ certainly makes me feel better. I looked at her, shaking my head. "Sorry, Ginny… it's just no one has ever been this nice to me before, other than my parents and my brother – well, my brother doesn't count because he's bigger than I am now and henceforth can technically beat me up…"

            Ginny let out a peal of laughter. "Well, that makes two of us, 'cept my brothers are all older and are all pain in the backsides. Now… C'mere and lets get working with this… I believe Ravenclaw seventh years have potions (She shuddered) with Professor Snape first thing this morning. How horrible!"

            "It's fine, really," I said, trying to change her mind. "I really like potions, and today I think we're learning about the"—

            "Save it for the classroom, brainiac," smiled Ginny. "I don't need to be lectured."

            I sat silently while Ginny applied some of her make up on my face, hopefully covering up the disastrous outcome that happened when I started crying.

            "Why are you doing this?" I finally asked, twenty minutes later when she was done. Ginny was putting away her make up in a carry-on bag, and she paused at my question. 

            "Truthfully?" she asked, glancing back up to look her blue eyes right into mine. 

            "Yes…" I looked her right back. 

            Finally, Ginny sighed and settled herself on her haunches, placing her hands lightly on my knees. "Because no one should be treated the way that everyone in this school is treating you."

            "H-How… how do you… know?" I whispered, shocked. Ginny had _known_ what people had been doing – making fun of me, mocking me, imitating me – and hadn't said anything until **_now_**?

            She glanced away quickly before her eyes met mine again. "Yeah. Most people in the Gryffindor house have classes with the Slytherins, and they like to mock you when you aren't around… and since Gryffs hate Slythers… well… we naturally stick up for you – not only because of that, mind you – but because that's who we are. I've tried so many times, since my second year actually, to find you when you weren't being…" she glanced away again and took a deep breath. "When you weren't being teased or bullied. But you always seemed to disappear. If Harry hadn't read _Hogwarts: A History_ so many times now, I could've swore that you apparate away."

            I blinked stupidly. After everything she said, all I heard was: '_If Harry hadn't read _Hogwarts: A History_ so many times_'… '_If Harry hadn't read _Hogwarts: A History_ so many times'…_

            "Harry Potter has read _Hogwarts: A History_?" I asked stupidly. 

            Ginny gave me a weird look. "Duh. He's one of the smartest students in the school besides you and Draco Malfoy. Why do you think he made Head Boy?"

            "He did?" I blinked again. "I must've been concentrating on something else, to not notice…"

            Ginny smiled. "Well, congratulations Hermione. You'll do splendidly. I'm sure of it." The younger girl beamed at me. 

            Finally, she stood and held out a hand to help me up. I took it and stood, smiling cautiously at her. "Does this…" I coughed. "D-Does this mean… ah, we're… um… friends?"

            Ginny laughed out loud. "Of course, silly! For someone smart you sure can be dense some times. DO you think I would just waltz in here and say, 'Here, I'll fix you up', then leave? Noooo… a Weasley _never_ does that."

            "Weasley." I frowned, thinking. I've heard that name before. "Is one of your brothers' Percy Weasley?"

            Ginny nodded, and linked her arm through mine as we exited the second floor loos. "He's the third oldest. The oldest of my brothers is Bill, then Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and then myself. It's quite the household."

            "Indeed," I agreed pleasantly. "What are you taking for electives?"

            "Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, and the new course that is being offered by Professor Cardigan," replied the redhead. 

            "Oh wow," I answered. "Do you know what the course is about? I didn't check into it, though I suppose it's common knowledge that I take one of everything at some time or the other."

            Ginny laughed. "Of course. You're quite the academic."

            "I don't know whether to take that as an insult or compliment."

            "If it comes from Ginny Weasley, it's a compliment," a new voice said, joining our conversation. We spun, and I was surprised to see Harry Potter and Ginny's older brother Ron Weasley standing together a few feet away from us. Ron hastily shoved something behind his back, though I didn't see what. 

            I stood awkwardly off to the side as Ginny explained why she had missed the end of breakfast and why she was heading down to the dungeons with me. A couple of times, I saw Harry's eyes flicker over to my face, but I stubbornly kept my gaze on the floor. 

            "Well, we're heading to Herbology, we can escort Hermione there. It would be bad enough for you, Ginny, since you're at the other side of the school," said Harry. 

            "Other side of the school?" I asked, snapping my head up to glance at Ginny. "You didn't tell me that! If that were the case I wouldn't have let you come with me… I appreciate it, I do – but you'd be late for your class!"

            "Nonsense," argued the petit girl, but at Ron's silencing glare she snapped her mouth shut and sighed. "I'll see you at lunch, okay, Hermione?"

            I nodded, not trusting myself to speak at the moment. I was going to be left alone with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. I think I was going to faint.

            "Hermione Granger, right?" asked Ron, stepping a bit forward. I nodded, still averting their eyes. Finally, someone sighed; it turned out to be Harry. 

            "Look, we're not going to bite you, you know," he said, kindly, but forceful enough to make me look up. 

            Nodding again, I kept my head up, but still didn't look them in their eyes. "Well, Herbology is through the Main Hall, so we can split there, since the passage to the dungeons is that way."

            "What? I thought you had to go through the two moving staircases to the left, then"—

            Ron shook his head. "Who told you that? It takes you less time the way through the Main Hall…"

            "Susan Bones," I whispered, tears threatening to spill over my eyes. They had purposely told me a lie so I would get in trouble by being late. It was so they wouldn't have to see me until I was in class… oh _God_…

            "Are you okay?" asked Harry, placing a hand on my shoulder. "They shouldn't have done that. When did they tell you this?"

            I blinked the tears back; there was no way I was going to cry in front of Harry and Ron. I purposefully avoided the question by saying that we should go, or we'd be late. I didn't want to tell them that Susan Bones had told me the incorrect way to the dungeons on the third day of school… in the first year.

            It was a shock when I arrived in the Main Hall with Harry and Ron on either side of me. Most students in Hogwarts _worshipped_ the two, as they had fought Voldemort many times together, though Harry was more famous.

            There was a shocked silence, and then whispered started up throughout the hall. As we walked past, Ron and Harry chatted pleasantly about Quidditch, a game I was never in to. I never liked it when players purposely hit bludgers at the opposite team to knock them off. It was far too violent for my liking. Besides, I had always liked polo and crocket much more.

            "… It's Gryffindor versus Slytherin on Wednesday. Why don't you sit with Ginny in the stands and watch? I doubt you'd want to sit with any of the Ravenclaws," finished Ron, with a bitter sound to the name of my house. 

            "Oh!" I smiled. "That would be lovely, thank you for the invitation."

            Harry looked at me funnily. "Do you always speak like that?"

            I blushed. "Er… no… it was just taught to me at a Muggle Finishing School. It was where I went before I came here."

            "Finishing School?" asked Ron, confused. "What do you finish there?"

            Harry rolled his eyes and I giggled lightly, before Harry muttered, "It's a Muggle thing Ron."

            "Oh…" He was about to continue when a voice called out, "What did you do, Granger? Bribe Harry and Ron so they can pretend to be your friend?"

            A group of people laughed, and I brought my head down, in shame and sadness. Of course that's what the school would think…

            I was going to turn and slink away when I felt someone's hand on waist. I looked up startled to see Harry stopping me from moving. He and Ron were staring furiously at the boy who had yelled that out, and the group of people who were laughing. Ron's face was turning red, and I immediately knew that this was when I'd get to see the famous "Weasley temper" I had heard so much about. 

            "Justin Finch-Fletchley!" snapped Harry, his face livid. "How _dare_ you say that? Twenty points from Hufflepuff for putting down a fellow student, **not** to mention the Head Girl."

            Students who were laughing fell silent at Harry's outburst. No one had thought that he would stand up for Hermione. 

            He grabbed onto Ron's sleeve before the redhead could jump forward and physically hurt the now confused and frightened Hufflepuff. Slipping an arm across Hermione's shoulder, he spoke. "I think you'll need an escort to potions. We'll be there waiting for you when you leave too – I don't like the instability that's going on at the moment… you might be hurt some more."

            "Yeah," put in Ron, "I don't think Professor Sprout will mind if we're a bit late anyway."

            I smiled graciously, hugging both teens briefly. "Thank you. I was beginning to wonder if you were doing this just because Ginny and I are friends… but I'm beginning to see differently."

            "Crazy girl," grinned Ron, squeezing my upper arm and rapping me lightly on the head. "You're nice, and if Ginny likes you, we like you. Besides, you're the smartest in our year and now you can help us with our homework!"

            "In your dreams, Weasley," I retorted, laughing as he pouted. Harry laughed and together we walked down into the damp dungeons. Some people from my class were already there, and stared at us when we arrived. 

            The door opened and the students filed in, sending curious glances over their shoulders. Before I went in, I grasped Ron's robes and almost pleaded, "You'll be waiting for me here, won't you?"

            Harry and Ron smiled, and I felt much better when Ron detangled my fingers from his robes, patting my hand comfortingly. 

            "Of course," they echoed each other, and I felt a swoop of gratitude and WAF feeling warm my body. 

            "Thank you again," I said. 

            "No problem," grinned Harry as they turned and left. I watched until they disappeared before sitting in my usual seat, alone in a corner. Whispers were all around, but no one dared to ask me what was going on. 

            Potions dragged on and on until finally the bell rang throughout the halls, and people scuffled out of the room. I packed my bags carefully and then followed the last stragglers out, wondering why the girls were giggling insanely and why some guys had started talking about who was going to win the Quidditch Cup this year. 

            Everything became obvious when I saw Harry and Ron leaning against the wall across from the potions room, waiting. They smiled when they saw me and waved, Harry slinging an arm across my shoulders again as we walked to my next class, with Ron telling me about Fred and George's pranks. 

            I barely heard a word he said, but nodded in intervals with a large smile on my face, from ear to ear. Only one thing ran through my mind:

            They had waited for me.

*


	3. Chapter III: Picture Perfect?

MissMatched 

Kneazle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, places, etc. belong to JK Rowling, Scholastics, etc. Avril Lavigne, "Skater Boy", owns the song from the CD "Let's Go". "Longview" is owned by Green Day, from the CD "Dookie", and "You Gotta Be" is by Des'Ree. New Found Glory belongs to whatever company owns them, as does Green Day, Sugarcult, and No Doubt.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: All Hermione wanted to be was popular, well liked, and considered "cool" – anything but the bookworm that she was labeled. Now, in her final year at Hogwarts, can she achieve that or is everything just mismatched?

Author's Notes: It's been a while since I wrote anything… and _Girl Midget_ wasn't going anywhere fast, so here's my newest story and idea, warped into something that was experience, and well… common sense and logic. Also note that this story is **FIRST PERSON**, a.k.a., all in **HERMIONE'S POV**. Updates won't be too often, since it's only the second day of school and I had homework in all of my classes. School is my number one priority at the moment, and writing will just have to wait until I get a break to write, like now. Thanks for sticking by! ~ Kneazle

**[Tuesday, October 15, 2002]** Quick note – when I looked at this earlier on FFnet, the format was messed, so if that happens when you view it, I'm apologizing in advance. 
    
    CHAPTER THREE: _Picture Perfect?_
    
                   By the end of classes, I was ecstatic. Harry, Ron, and Ginny made me feel better than I had ever felt before. They were my friends, and I had dreamed, prayed for that to happen since forever. 
    
                   It seemed as if my wishes were coming true… now, if only Pansy Parkinson could turn into a _real_ pug, things would be perfect. Then again, life is never perfect and I learnt that the hard way.
    
                   I was studying for NEWTs already, and of course; I said that I would help Harry and Ron in between my Head Girl responsibilities. I would be up late into the night, helping them catalogue their notes in the library under Harry's invisibility cloak, and we were nearly caught more than a couple of times. 
    
                   However, I could hardly believe how well things were going around the school. Within a couple of days, things were looking up. People didn't call me any more names (unless they were in Slytherin), and some people even stopped in the middle of the hall to talk. It was a bit weird, but it still happened, and I loved the feeling. It always made my heart soar, knowing that I wasn't "invisible" or a "nobody" anymore. I was on cloud nine for more than three months, addicted to the feelings of elation and success of my newfound "popularity". 
    
                   Ginny and I became close friends, and we went nearly every week together to Hogsmeade. We would sit in the Three Broomsticks, drinking Butterbeer and gossiping about the latest fashion fad that the wizardring world would have, or a new invention that manipulated a muggle device for the world I was now part of. 
    
                   "You realize that we're having another Yule Ball this year," said Ginny one Saturday, while we were drinking our Butterbeer. 
    
                   "Yes, I know," I replied. What was she getting at?
    
                   "And you know because you're HG you need a date for the ball to lead the opening dance," she continued gracefully. She never paused, and she never once looked up from _Witches 17_ magazine she was reading. 
    
                   "I-I need a-a date?" I stuttered. I remembered the last Yule Ball I went to; fourth year, when I went with Viktor Krum, a famous Bulgarian Quidditch player. People thought I went with him because he was famous, but I didn't. He was actually really nice, and I even went to visit him in the summer, but it didn't lead to anything. 
    
                   Besides that, I had always felt self-conscious in front of all the people at my school. What if they made fun of my choice of dress? What if… what if? It was always _what if_? 
    
                   _What if this year is different?_
    
                   Well, then it would be different, I concluded in my head, oblivious of Ginny waving a hand in front of my eyes. "Hello? Mione? Anyone in there?"
    
                   "Pardon? Oh yes, what is it, Ginny?" I asked, blinking away the sudden image of me on my dream date's arm, being ooh'ed and ahh'ed over.
    
                   "The Yule Ball is in two weeks; have you gotten your dress yet?" she asked, repeating her earlier question which I had missed. 
    
                   "I wasn't even aware of when it was being held, Ginny, I'm sorry. And no, I don't have my dress yet," I answered, sighing a bit while moving my straw around. I wasn't really rich in the wizardring world standards, and it would make it hard to pick out my dream dress **plus** dream date. 
    
                   "Well, why don't we go over to Gladrags right now and take a look? Or how about Swingers?" suggested Ginny, downing the rest of her drink, chugging it. 
    
                   "Well, Gladrags may be a bit… too expensive," I sighed, but I nodded anyway. "Sure, why not? I have enough on me to at least get a decent one, if it's not too outrageously priced."
    
                   Ginny grinned, stood and tipped generously. "Well, then what are we waiting for?"
    
                   Swingers was my shop; dusty, small, with out-of-the-ordinary dresses that we in and out of style too many times to count, but were so gorgeous it was simply irresistible to not try on at least one. I wondered out loud why no one had come in here and bought the whole stock out. 
    
                   The saleswoman, a kindly, petit grandmother-type smiled at me. "We're hidden," she explained. "We're tucked between _Vienna Chocolate's_ and _Fhoto's For All Occasions_, so no one really notices us – besides, Gladrags advertises so much more."
    
                   I nodded enthusiastically as Ginny ran around the narrow aisles, yelling out, "Ooh, this one – no, how about this?"
    
                   I followed the sound of her voice, before I spotted the most beautiful thing I had ever seen – a velvet blue dress, but what made it extraordinary was the cut. It looked like it was right out of a movie about the French Revolution, with empire waist, low square-cut neck with sewn-in sapphires. 
    
                   The saleswoman came up behind me. "That was made for you," she breathed, her eyes trailing up and down my full figure in appreciation as I held the rack and dress against me. I looked at myself in the dressing room mirror and sighed in appreciation. 
    
                   Ginny asked, "What was?" as she came up behind me from another side. I turned, smiling; I knew this was the one I had to get, it was too nice to let go, and I knew that she would agree with me. 
    
                   But no – she wrinkled up her nose and said with obvious disgust, "No, Hermione, blue isn't your colour. This cut is all wrong for you, and Revolution went out for Yule Balls twenty years ago. No, honestly, you are much better off with out that rubbish."
    
                   "B-But, are you sure? I mean, it's so lovely, and I think it's perfect –" I trailed off, watching her face. Angry red blotches had begun to appear on her cheeks. 
    
                   "Are you not trusting my judgment?" she challenged, her voice huffy as she placed her hands on her hips. 
    
                   "I do trust it!" I burst out, and I meant it. I trusted her and Ron and Harry beyond anything in the world, but didn't she see how lovely the dress was?
    
                   That was when a very nasty voice in my head whispered, _"what if she wants it for herself? You know she loves anything blue, and she'd look ravishing in this…"_
    
                   I pounded that voice down and shook it out of my way – there was no way my friend, _Ginny_, would do that. 
    
                   Finally, a few minutes later, Ginny calmed down enough to sigh and say, "please, just try this red one on."
    
                   Slinky, with red sparkles all over; I knew at once it was too thin for me. It wouldn't show anything that I had off, and I wouldn't feel comfortable with that knee-slit. Sighing, I nodded and tried it on, barely getting it up over my thighs. In the mirror, I wrinkled my nose, and the mirror wheezed, "You are right dear, that dress isn't for you. What happened to that nice blue one you wanted to try?"
    
                   I shrugged. "My friend didn't think it suited me." I couldn't lie, not to a mirror or anyone – one of my faults, I suppose. 
    
                   "It was lovely, dear, do try it on in here and buy it. This one is horrid on you – oh, no offense," the mirror apologized. I smiled at my reflection. 
    
                   "None taken," I murmured, just as Ginny shouted, "Hermione, how does it fit?"
    
                   I opened the door and showed her for her viewing. She clapped with glee and shrieked, "That's the one! That's the one you need to get!"
    
                   I winced. Surely she was joking, this thin piece of material? It wouldn't keep me more if we were to go outside in the winter, and where else could I wear it? Not to any of my parent's galas, that's for sure.
    
                   "Are you sure? I'm still saying that blue one…"
    
                   "Hermione, we've been over this. Blue is not you. Red is, and this is so nice," gushed Ginny, smiling convincingly at me. I frowned, and looked at myself in the mirror once more, the saleswoman glaring at Ginny behind her. 
    
                   Red clung to me like I was wet, showing off my chubby waist and stomach. No, this wasn't for me, but I didn't want to lose Ginny's temper any more, or her friendship. So I'd buy it, just for her sake, and my ears. 
    
                   "I'll get it," I whispered, dreading every word I said. 
    
                   The saleswoman looked pained, and as I went back into the change room, I heard Ginny yell, "I'll be waiting outside!"
    
                   Taking it off, I glanced once more at the blue Revolution dress that was hung up on a hanger, looking prime and unique. That was the one I wanted, so much…
    
                   I reached out, plucked it off the hanger and took it with the red dress to the counter. As the saleswoman rang up the red dress, I felt a sudden tug in my stomach. 
    
                   "No!" I gasped. "Not the red one… I can't bare the sight of it – the blue, the blue!" I nearly wailed the last part, so desperate to have the blue fabric in my hands. 
    
                   The saleswoman said nothing but smiled, ripping the tag off the blue dress instead of the red one's. She rang that one up, and I was surprised to see it was less than the skimpy red one. I smiled as I handed my money over, and for once I felt good for buying something I had always wanted. 
    
                   Now, as long as Ginny doesn't see it…
    
                   Two days before the Yule Ball, Harry Potter came up to me and asked if I wanted to be his date – as friends of course. I nodded, and understood right away but said nothing. He had wasted time playing Quidditch and all the girls he wanted to ask had dates. If it were anyone else but him, I would've sneered, _"LOOOOOSER!"_ and turn away, but I didn't. 
    
                   So, on the night of the ball, I put on my Revolution dress, knowing Ginny was going to throw a fit, and put on the nicest make up I could, did my hair in ringlets and stepped out of my Head Girl room and waited for Harry in our meeting spot. 
    
                   He showed up wearing a muggle tuxedo and holding a white rose, handing it over to me and kissing my cheek when he saw me. 
    
                   "You look great," he commented. 
    
    I blushed and smiled. "So do you," I replied, giving him a grin. "Ready, Mr. Potter?"
    
                   Laughing, he joked, "After you, Ms. Granger." And together we entered the Yule Ball. 
    
                   Snowflakes fell softly from the ceiling, but never once touched our hair, and jingling from bells could be heard all over the place, but no one could seem to find the source. The two of us attracted a lot of attention, I noticed, and people were whispering. 
    
                   Feeling as if I had been caught doing something wrong, I nearly lowered my head and blushed a deep red, but Harry put a stop to that, by guiding me over to the Head Table where the prefects, and Head People were seated with the teachers. 
    
                   "Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter!" greeted Dumbledore. "How nice of you to come together!"
    
                   "Yeah, how _nice_ of you," sneered Draco Malfoy, glowering at Harry. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what were between those two, but said nothing. 
    
                   We took our seats, and ordered our food by asking the plate what we wanted. I noticed that Draco and I were the only ones who said "please" and "thank you" – Harry just snapped, "lamb chops" and received it, but a much smaller portion that Dumbledore had. 
    
                   "Chicken Fettuccini, please," I said as politely as I could. Draco copied me, and together we said, "Thank you", only to receive super-large plates in place. We grinned at each other, and dug in to our meal. 
    
                   I was beginning to relax, not dreading the dancing, until Dumbledore stood and announced that The Vampires were going to start playing. I felt my palms going sweaty. I had no idea what kind of music The Vampires played – was it rock? Hip-hop? Pop, or classical? I had taken lessons, so I knew how to dance, but in front of so many people, I was sure to goof.
    
                   Instead, I heard the first couple bars to Latin and felt a smile grace my lips. Latin, how I loved those classes!
    
                   "Can you dance?" Harry asked, his breath smelling a bit like alcohol. 
    
                   "Of course," I replied, slightly miffed. Was he drinking?
    
                   "Then let's go," he said, pulling me to my feet as we strolled down to the empty dance floor. I started in the first position, and he copied, doing the male equivalent. Then, as the tango came on, I found myself almost leading a drunken Harry Potter around the dance floor. There was no way I could perform a "sorberious" charm on him, until we stopped. Thankfully, the song was short and soon people join all around, swarming us. 
    
                   I managed to drag Harry over to a dark corner to perform the charm, and when he sober up, a giggly girl showed up and asked to dance with him. 
    
                   "You don't mind, do you, Mione?"
    
                   I shrugged. "No, not at all. Go, have fun Harry." I watched the two of them leave, and sat on a vacant chair. Most people were dancing, and the area I was sitting in was empty, the tables holding only half-empty cups and crumpled napkins. 
    
                   Song after song Harry danced with new girls, and finally, as I lost interest and looked around the hall, I was Ginny. She was talking to Seamus Finnigan, another Gryffindor. I walked over and joined the duo. 
    
                   "Hello," I greeted. 
    
                   "Hi, Hermione," said Seamus cheerfully, while Ginny glared at me. I looked at her, my eyes and eyebrows clearly asking, "what?"
    
                   "You're wearing that horrid blue dress," she snapped. "What happened to the red one?"
    
                   I sighed. "I didn't really like it, so I bought this one instead. I think it's much nicer than the red one, it just didn't suit me, Ginny."
    
                   She glared, and turned her back on me. Seamus raised his eyebrows. 
    
                   "Well, I think it looks great on you, Hermione," he offered. I smiled my thanks, but feeling that I had outstayed my welcome I said goodbye and quickly hurried back to the seat I was last in.
    
                   A couple minutes later as I sat all alone, Harry came staggering up with his arm slung across a blonde's shoulders. "Hey Hermione," he laughed. 
    
                   "Harry," I greeted the two, the girl with a nod. 
    
                   "Crystal's date passed out so I'm taking her back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Is that okay with you?"
    
                   _Well, besides the fact that Crystal's a fourth-year Slytherin, yeah, go ahead._ "No, it's not a problem, Harry. Be careful and have fun, you two."
    
                   "Great! Bye, 'Mione." Harry waved his goodbyes and together they left, leaving me alone, again.
    
                   As I sat in that seat, for the final three hours of the dance, watching everyone else have fun, I began to realize some things about myself, and my new friends. Maybe I trusted them too easily, or there was something seriously wrong with me. Either way, I knew I was going to find out.
    
                   Christmas Break was upon us students in mere minutes it seemed, and soon I was back on the train sharing a compartment with the other prefects and Harry, being Head Boy. He and Draco were on opposite sides of the compartment, both glaring at each other, but couldn't insult. I had placed them both under a _silencio_ charm, and refused to take it off until we reached King's Cross. 
    
                   Finally, I spotted the station and removed the charm, glaring at the two. "You are both Head Boy candidates – with you, Draco, as Harry's replacement if anything were to happen, and remove that glint from your eyes, this _second_!" I chided, pointing my finger at them both. "Now, shake hands and call a truce until you leave King's Cross."
    
                   They shook, grudgingly, and I nodded in satisfaction, the prefects looking on in wonderment as I handled the situation that had been on going since they first met when they were eleven. 
    
                   I left through the compartment, leaving everyone else, and prayed that no one would notice my bounce. I was so happy; I was home for the holidays!
    
                   I spotted my mother and brother standing off to the side of the barrier between the muggle and wizardring world, and hugged them both with force. 
    
                   "I missed you!" I laughed, hugging my mother. I turned to face Sam, and hugged him tightly too. "How is school?"
    
                   "Ugh, Hermione – not in public!" he groaned, wriggling out of my arms. I sighed and let him go, before following my mother and brother to our Buick. 
    
                   "So Hermione how was school?"
    
                   Ooh, the dreaded question. I used to hate answering, but because it was a ritual in all families, parents just _had_ to ask. So in the past I answered with a fine. This time, I answered with a "great!"
    
                   My mother's eyes flicked to the review mirror and widened when she caught mine. "Oh? What's different this year?"
    
                   I wanted to say everything, but with Sam in the car, I would have to… abridge a few things. Not like we did anything wrong, but my parents didn't really like hearing anything doing with magic. 
    
                   "I made some friends," I started out, feeling weird and shifting in my seat. Yeah, that's just what you say to your mum when you're seventeen, _I made some friends, mummy!_
    
                   "That's wonderful, honey!" my mother cooed. Sam rolled his eyes but inputted his two cents. 
    
                   "Are they like you?"
    
                   "Of course. I met them at school, didn't I?" I replied hotly, glaring at Sam. Where else would I have met my friends? Through Owl-Post? Honestly…
    
                   "Sam, be nice to your sister. Hermione, don't snap dear," came mother's voice from the front seat. I sighed and leaned in against the cool leather interior. The rest of the ride was quiet, and my head raced with thoughts. 
    
                   Would my friends write over break? Would I get any gifts, even after I picked theirs out months ago?
    
                   I'd be finding out shortly. 
    
                   Four days into Christmas Break, Boxing Day was upon us and that was when I received my first owl. I had gotten presents from Ron, Harry, and Ginny, although it was evident that Ron had written the Christmas card and not her. She was still mad for the whole dress thing. 
    
                   The owl, sent from the Burrow (where Ron and Ginny lived), was named Pigwidegon and damn near impossible to catch. In fact, it landed in dad's oatmeal before I manage to catch the little bugger.
    
                   _Dear Hermione,_ read the letter, _Christmas just isn't the same without our brainiac bookworm! Mum wants you to come over so she can meet you – we had been telling her all about you and how much you've helped us with our studying! Anyways, we've added a pinch of floo powder in the enclosed envelope. If it's OK with your parents, why don't you come over for the day?_
    
    _               Ron_
    
                   In the PS was how to use the floo powder and in my hurry to find my parents I nearly lost the envelope. 
    
                   After my parents agreed to let me go, I changed out of my P.J.'s and hopped into the shower before taming my frizzy hair. I was going to my friend's house – I had to look good! After all, I was Head Girl. 
    
                   Twenty minutes later, I fell out of the fireplace at the Burrow, and entered a whole new world. Two twins with shocking red hair, too many freckles to count, and mischievous smiles helped me up from the floor. 
    
                   "Why, you must be Hermione Granger," said one. The other nodded on my other side as I croaked out a, "Yes…"
    
                   "I'm Fred," said the first. 
    
                   "And I'm George," chimed in the second, before feigning a confused look. "Wait, no, _I'm_ Fred, and _you're_ George."
    
                   "That's right! I'm Gred, and you're Forge," answered Fred—er, no, George, er… Gred… I gasped and backed away from the two. 
    
                   "Really, I'll just call you Twin 1 and Twin 2, fair?" I asked, shaking a bit. Were these two Ginny and Ron's older brothers? How odd were they really?
    
                   "Hermione, is that you?" came Ron's voice, and moments later he and Harry stepped through the family room archway. "Ah, there you are. I see you've met Fred and George, our resident troublemakers."
    
                   Both twins bowed, and I found myself placing a hand on my forehead in confusion. Harry followed my movement and grinned. 
    
                   "Yeah, they do that to you. C'mon, meet the rest of the Weasleys; they're in the kitchen," he said, guiding me towards wherever the kitchen was. 
    
                   When I stepped into the small, yet comforting room, I saw another big shock of red hair. The whole family was pure redheads! Gods above help me get through this, I nearly wanted to scream. 
    
                   Ron cleared his throat, and pointed from left to right, in a clockwise motion around the table. "That's Charlie, Percy, Bill's the oldest, that's Mum, and there's Dad, yes, she's Muggleborn you can ask her things later; you know Ginny already and Harry and I, and you've met Fred and George so now you know the family."
    
                   He said that all in one big rush, so technically, I only heard a jumble of mush, but that wouldn't stop me from being polite. I wouldn't ask, "Come again?" plainly. 
    
                   "Sit down," offered Harry, and I sat in the chair he offered. As soon as I sat, the twin crowed with laughter, and Ginny, Ron, and Harry split a grin, while Bill and Charlie frowned. 
    
                   "She fell for it! She fell for it!" the twins chanted. 
    
                   "Fell for what?" I asked uncertainly. As I moved to sit up again, I heard something rip and tear, before I quickly sat again, my cheeks flaming red. There was some sort of glue on the chair, and it had ripped my favorite pair of jeans!
    
                   "Fred! George! That's no way to treat a guest!" yelled Mrs. Weasley. Where was I? What kind of nuthouse was this? Ron and Ginny weren't like this, and Harry – well, Harry never acted like this…
    
                   Mrs. Weasley came over and mumbled an apology, waving her wand and fixing my jeans so they were as good as new. I thanked her quietly and switched seats, my head looking at my hands. They rested in my lap, shaking slightly. I wouldn't let anyone in this household see how close to crying I was at that moment. I would have preferred Pansy Parkinson sticking another "Kick Me" sign on my back before doing this in my life. Who would've thought people I trust or like would do this? People I call my **_friends_**?
    
                   After listening for a couple minutes of what was going on at school, Gringotts, or Romania, I felt the sudden urge to lie and say I had to go. I couldn't stand it in this house, knowing that I was going to be teased by "friends". Something was right here, and I needed time to think it over.
    
                   The chair tipped back as I stood. The conversation around me stopped as Bill asked curiously, "Where are you going?"
    
                   "My mother wanted me home early because of family coming over late this year. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you very much for the invitation, though," I responded, my cheeks turning a bit red. I backed out of the room, "I'm sorry, very sorry. I'll see you three at school, okay? Bye then."
    
                   I bolted from the room, took a pinch of the floo powder in my pocket and shouted, "Granger Residence, Surrey!" I disappeared in a swirl of colours and houses, before landing with a thud in my living room. Not wanting my parents to know of my arrival, I raced up to my room and shut the door. 
    
                   Leaning against it, I wondered, _what's going on with my friends?_ I intended to find out soon.

*

Whew! Sorry this took so long to come out, people – I've been a busy girl lately! Anyways, I hope you all liked chapter three. I'm made the outline for the story, and it's only going to be 6 chapters, so I've hit the half-way mark… tell me what you think, and leave feedback – you all know I love it! ^_~

PS, do me all a favor and read _Redemption_ and _Sanctuary_ or at least leave a nice, itsy bitsy review?? Pwetty pwease??? For me?? **bats eyelashes**

Right – well, off I go! Have a great Thanksgiving (you Canadians) and Columbus Day (you Americans) and good Monday (the rest of you, hee hee)! ~ Kneazle


	4. Chapter IV: Crash and Burn

MissMatched

Kneazle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, places, etc. belong to JK Rowling, Scholastics, etc. "Longview" is owned by Green Day, from the CD "Dookie", and "You Gotta Be" is by Des'Ree. New Found Glory belongs to whatever company owns them, as does Green Day, Sugarcult, and No Doubt.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: All Hermione wanted to be was popular, well liked, and considered "cool" – anything but the bookworm that she was labeled. Now, in her final year at Hogwarts, can she achieve that or is everything just mismatched?

Author's Notes: Please note that this story is FIRST PERSON, a.k.a., all in HERMIONE'S POV. Updates won't be too often, since it's only the second day of school and I had homework in all of my classes. School is my number one priority at the moment, and writing will just have to wait until I get a break to write, like now. Thanks for sticking by! ~ Kneazle

CHAPTER FOUR_: Crash and Burn_

            Once school resumed, I found myself wondering what was going on with my "friends" back over Christmas Hols. They had never acted that way before, and it was a bit off from the norms. 

            "Have a safe trip, dear!" said my mother. "And send us some pictures of your friends!"

            Ha. As if I would until I know where I stand with them. Was I just bookworm Hermione, good for homework answers? Or was I the best friend Hermione, girl who was loyal and courageous? I guess I'll still work on that one. 

            As I climbed on the Hogwarts Express, I bumped into a group of giggly fifth year girls from the Hufflepuff house. 

            "Hi Hermione! Are you planning on a Spring Ball?" asked one.

            "Hey Hermione – how was your vacation?" asked another. I smiled widely at them, and answered their questions, omitting some details of course. They didn't need to know I was uncertain about my friendships. It even made me wonder why people would talk to me… was it because Harry Potter was a "friend", or was it me? I intended on finding out.

            After answering, I left the group who all said their goodbyes, and continued down the corridor to find an empty compartment. I didn't feel like sitting with the two Weasleys or Harry. I wanted some time alone to think. It wasn't if it was much of a change, anyway. I usually thought by myself, in my Head Girl bedroom that was adjoined to Harry's. 

            I sat on the plush red seat, and propped my legs up on the opposite one. I pulled out _A Brave New World_ and set forth on reading it, devoting my time and passion to it. I hadn't gotten very far in the tiny script when the door slid open. I opened my mouth to tell whomever it was off when a voice stopped me.

            "Oh, is little miss Hermione Granger the Mudblood all alone? Whatever happened to her _friends_?" sneered a voice I hadn't heard in weeks. 

            Just what I needed this early in the morning: Pansy Parkinson. Something snapped in me and I whipped my head around to face the pug-like girl. 

            "You know what Pansy? Why don't you take your crap somewhere else where people actually _cry_ when you insult them?" I snapped, my eyes flashing and my breathing heavier. 

            Pansy's honey-colored eyes widened, and one of her Slytherin girlfriends giggled before another joined in. 

            "Oooh, Pansy got _burned_!" one whooped. Pansy sniffed the air, and with her head high, turned on her heels and left the compartment, stalking down the hall to probably terrorize some poor unsuspecting first year. 

            I sighed deeply and returned to my book, but was once again interrupted. 

            "Bravo, Granger, bravo."

            And now enter Draco Malfoy, stage left, leaning on the doorframe. 

            "Yes, what do you want, Malfoy?" I asked with as much cordiality I could to a fellow Head. I looked up at him, and actually saw a smile, not a smirk. How… different. 

            "I wanted to congratulate the person who made Pansy wail to me how she got insulted to her face and couldn't think of anything to say. What a shock it was to hear it was you," he replied. 

            "Well, I do have **some** backbone, you know," I sniffed, glancing back at my book. Nothing was said, and I assumed he left until I stepped into the compartment. 

            "Mind if I join you? Crabbe and Goyle have been… detained… by business at home," he asked, smirking just slightly. I waved my hand at the seat across from me. 

            "It's Britain, it's a free country," replied I. He nodded and sat; this made me curious and so I found myself looking at him, with my head tilted. 

            "What, something wrong, Granger?" he asked, a bit self-conscious. 

            "No… it's just that you've only said Mudblood and other rude things to me. Why the change?" I asked plainly, being as blunt and dry as possible. 

            "I don't know. I guess… well… you didn't seem to be enjoying yourself at the Yule Ball, with Potter as your date. And the Weasley girl didn't talk to you… Weasel ignored you…" He shrugged. "I thought you needed a friend, someone to talk to."

            "Won't this ruin your rep?" I asked, surprised. He seemed surprised at the question, but a look of calm and control placed it quickly back into place.

            "Maybe. But I can be friends with whomever I want," he replied, stiffly.

            "Whoa," I said, throwing up my hands in a surrendering gesture. "I was only asking. No need to get all Slytherin on me and bite my head off."

            He smiled slightly at this, and then grinned, showing his canines off in a positively evil smirk. "Slytherin, eh? Well, Granger, I don't bite… hard."

            The earlier conversation with Draco was a bit weird, and I was sure that he would come in and insult me. I was surprised when he didn't, but… at least I know in some weird way he has an inkling of what I'm going through. I don't believe for one second that Crabbe or Goyle are his friends… I think they're just there because they _are_. He's just alone, or nearly as lonely as I am – he just has a better way of hiding it and being strong. I need to learn from him all I can. 

            I entered the Great Hall in high spirits. Pansy could taunt and tease me all she liked; I'd give her hell back, so I wasn't worried about her. I was more dreading Harry, Ron, and Ginny. What would things be like now, after I had walked out on them at the Burrow? I knew something was happening, especially since I was giving their alliance and friendship a second glance. I didn't want to lose the friendship that I had blindly thrown myself into, because I'm sure it's the only time I would ever have friends. And friends are _such_ an important part of socialization. Well, let's not get into introduction psychology at this minute. 

            Heading to the Ravenclaw table, I was surprised to see that when I reached the middle, Padma's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. "Hermione!" she said, smiling openly and warmly. "Come, sit here… I _loved_ your dress at the Yule Ball. Where did you get it?"

            "In this small little nook in Hogsmeade. It was a shop called Swingers. They had _the_ most amazing dresses in there – perfect if you're into retro," I answered, smiling as I sat down beside Padma. Who would've though? Half a year ago I wouldn't be able to sit here, and now here I am… maybe some things **do** change over time.

            "Really? I've never seen it before. Perhaps you could show me on our next Hogsmeade visit? I'd really appreciate it," suggested Padma, smiling a bit, even shyly, if that's what it could be called. 

            "Okay," I agreed. "Just tell me when."

            When she nodded, I sensed she had to say something more, and by the way she was shifting her eyes to the Great Hall floor, I knew it was something important. 

            "Hermione…" she began in a quiet voice. She glanced up at me, with my one eyebrow raised, and sighed. "I'm sorry for treating you badly all those years. I never meant to… it just happened. You were so quiet it was easy to pick on you, and you seemed like such a know-it-all, too. I know I what I've done or said can't be forgiven easily… but I'd like to try. Friends?"

            I stared at the manicured mocha hand in front of me. Ginny, Harry and Ron had never done anything like this for me, and here Padma was saying she was sorry, and knows the things she did couldn't be forgotten… 

            I smiled and shook her hand. "Of course. We all make past mistakes, you know. As long as we learn from them, we're doing okay."

            Padma also smiled and we sat side-by-side, talking about what we did over the holidays. I left out anything having to do with Ron, Harry or Ginny; I'm sure they wouldn't like the whole school spreading rumors about them and then saying it was coming from me. Besides, I'm not like that. 

            "Wow… a twin. It must be kinda cool to be one," I said, lighting up at the thought of two Padma's. 

            "Well, Parvati's okay, but she's more of a ditz. I came out first, so I'm much more intelligent, and older… and prettier," said Padma, a grin on her face. I choked on my dumpling and stuttered out, "How when you're identical?"

            Padma blanched at this, and tapped a finger to her mouth. "Hmmm… good point. Oh well. I still say I'm better looking."

            "Damn straight," a new voice said, joining our conversation. Looking up, we both saw Draco Malfoy leaning slightly away from the Gryffindors and towards our table. "Hermione? Mind if we talk about Head duties? I don't exactly feel like getting into a match with Wonder Boy."

            "Harry?" realization dawned on my face. "Ah! Oh, yes, of course. Can you wait five minutes so I can finish up here?"

            "You should have been done _minutes_ ago, but you were gabbing away," snapped Draco. I stared at him, taking a large bite out of my dumpling. 

            "Sow?" I asked, my mouth full of food. Padma turned away, covering her mouth with her hand, but giggles still escaped. Draco glared at me, but I saw the corner of his lips twitch as he tried to stop himself from smiling. 

            "Well, whenever you're done stuffing yourself, I'll be in the Head lounge," he sniffed and turned away with his head high. I knew I had won though – I had gotten him to show something other that superiority. 

            "I didn't know that you and Malfoy spoke to each other," said Padma, her head resting in her hand as her ebony hair flower around her shoulders. 

            "Well, we were speaking in my compartment on the way back here. I guess Draco and I have something in common… but he's still a stuck-up meanie," I hmphed. Padma let out another peal of laughter. 

            "MEANIE! Who says that anymore? Meanie!" she crowed. I stood up, a small smile on my face as I told her I would see her later. 

            Walking past the Gryffindor table, and passing Ginny, Ron and Harry, I visibly noticed them stop talking and stare at me as I passed by. 

            Ah, so they're still mad at me, for being kind and nice, I thought. Sucks to be them… I had a busy schedule now for the next semester until NEWTs, and I was going to show the school that little Miss Hermione "Perfect" Granger could be cool – but I still wanted them back. I'm sure there's a theorem or law for that… like Murphy's except titled something different like, "You know you're a loser when you can't get over your 'best friends' even though they're really mean to you". 

            "There goes the know-it-all," I heard someone hiss, and as I whipped my head around, I saw Ginny's eye keep contact with mine, narrowing. 

            Know-it-all? _Know-it-all?_ She thought I, Hermione Granger, was a know-it-all? Oooh, I was seeing red when I stopped in the middle of the Great Hall and turned to face her. 

            "Excuse me, Ginny, but did you just say something to me?" I asked, blinking calmly at the younger girl. 

            Ginny looked up at me, a perfect (thin, ew) eyebrow arched. "Why would I have anything to say to _you_, Mudblood?"

            I visibly reeled back, shocked by the blow. Harry seemed to be surprised too, as his mouth opened a bit to make a small "o". Ron, however, seemed unfazed by Ginny's pureblood-mudblood reference. 

            "Excuse me?" my voice came out shrill and unsure. "Did you just call me a 'mudblood' because why? I'm smarter than you? I actually am kind and don't care about popularity, like you? If anyone's the 'mudblood', Ginny Weasley, then it's _you_. I don't need to waste my time and breath talking to people I used to consider my friends. What an idiot I was to trust the lot of you."

            I turned on my heel and stalked out of the Great Hall, aware that most Gryffindors and Slytherins heard. Surprisingly, no Slytherins jeered at me as I walked past, angrily brushing at tears that rolled out of my eyes. 

            I began walking to the Head Lounge, ignoring anyone who looked at me. I was in no mood to talk, or anything at the moment. My mind was set in neutral. Walk, get to Head Lounge, talk to Draco, and go to Headmaster's. That was my plan, and I was going to stick to it. I needed some guidance, and I wasn't going to get it from Padma, Draco and anyone else. 

            As I pushed open the door to the Head Lounge, I saw Draco standing at the window, staring out as clouds rolled in from the West, blocking the sun. 

            "Hey," he said, turning. His expression was welcoming, but the second he saw my face, a frown appeared. "What's wrong, Granger?"

            "Nothing I want to talk about," I muttered, sitting at the round table we Heads used for our duties. "Now—" I sniffed —"What did you want to talk about?"

            Draco said nothing, but sat in a chair next to mine, staring at me. My lower lips began to quiver as I heard Ginny's voice in my head again, and again, saying the same hissing words… _know-it-all, mudblood, know-it-all…_

            I don't know when, but sometime from when I walked into that room, to when Draco sat next to me, something snapped and I found myself in an embrace, crying. I couldn't talk about what had happened, but I know that I could count on some people to be there for me… like Draco, Padma, the teachers, and maybe even Harry, judging by the expression on his face. But right now, there was nothing else I wanted to do but cry. 

            And Draco stayed with me the whole time, saying nothing, just holding me. In my head, I silently whispered_, "Thank you."_

            I lay in my bed, later that night, staring at my ceiling. I had left the Head Lounge with Draco by my side, reaching my Head Room, and thanked him for helping me. I didn't know what else to do, but being exhausted, Draco made me go to my room and sleep. Sleep, he said, was the unspoken friend that was always there for you. 

            I believed him. 

            It was weird, how in only a couple of days, months, years, things could change. Who would've thought that Draco Malfoy and I would become friends? Or Padma Patil and myself? I shook my head as the thoughts raced through my brain. 

            I was just starting to drift asleep when there was a knock on my door – which was adjacent to Harry's Head Boy room. 

            I stood and opened the door, rubbing my eyes to get rid of the sleepiness that was trying to overtake me. "Yeah?" I mumbled, looking at Harry through one open eye. I knew I looked horrible – hair everywhere, puffy eyes from crying, puffy nose. 

            "Hermione," said Harry, a bit sadly, and concerned as he saw my face. "A-are you all right?"

            "I'm fine," I said, a bit stiffly. He could've stood up for me… 

            "Oh." He fidgeted, looking at the ground for a bit, before looking at me again. "Ginny shouldn't have said that to you."

            "Said what?" I asked deliberately. Could he say it? Could he say, "Mudblood" to my face?

            Harry paled a bit, before turning his head away. Ha, I thought triumphantly, he can't! But then, he surprised me by blurting out in emotion, "She shouldn't have called you a mudblood, because you aren't one. You're one of the most brilliant, inspirational, kind people I've met."

            His outburst shocked me. Harry had never been just there to improve his grades, or play with my emotions – he had always been there for me… well, except maybe the Yule Ball, but he had always been there… choked with emotion, I just looked at him, not knowing what to say. 

            Finally, I tumbled out a, "why?"

            Harry looked at me with sad eyes. "I don't know why, Mione." He sighed, and looked over my shoulder. "Can I come in?"

            I nodded, moving aside for him to come into my room. His eyes swept over my bookshelves, overstuffed with schoolbooks and personal favourites. He sat finally on my bed, where I had been crying against earlier. His hand passed over my damp pillow, and he snatched his hand back. Emerald eyes searched mine out and I nodded, sullenly. 

            "Is there something you want to talk about Harry? Because I would prefer to be left alone right now, if you don't mind." I said quietly, watching him as I moved to my desk, taking another Kleenex out from the box. 

            "Uh…" Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy ebony hair. I smiled as I caught a glance at the ever-important scar. "I do want to talk, if that's okay."

            I nodded and sat beside him on the bed, sitting Indian style as he both stared out of my window. Stars twinkled outside, and I realized only now that my candles had burned out hours ago and we were sitting in darkness. 

            "I never thought Ginny would say that, you know?" started Harry; as he stared ahead, moonlight hitting us as we sat together on the bed. His eyes were haunted and unseeing, remembering certain images. He continued as I watched. "I thought she knew better. She acted so wrongly, there, saying that to you, to someone I thought she considered a friend. But after you left, I thought about it, and realized that maybe Ginny had never really been your friend… but she had been. At one point, she had, Hermione. When you ran away that day, the first day back to school… she had followed you. She cared, and you had become friends. 

            "We then had come into the picture, Ron and I. I want you to know right now, at this very moment, that I was and will be always there for you, Hermione. Nothing can stop that. Maybe you don't believe me when I say this, but I am your friend. I admire you for who you are, for what you stand for. You changed my life, in a great way, and have opened my eyes in a way no one – not even Dumbledore or Sirius – have ever done.

            "I can't say or tell you what Ron and Ginny really think, because I'm not them. But I'm here now, and I'm saying now that I'm sorry. For the time at the Burrow, for tonight at dinner, for every day since we met on the Hogwarts Express back when we were eleven. I'm sorry for not being there for you when I could've, if I tried. 

            "I know it's hard for you to believe, or understand, but I'm here for you. I swear it." As he finished, I felt the tears rolling down my eyes. Chills ran up and down my spine, at the truth and emotion that lay behind the words. I knew at that moment I had a friend in Harry. I knew I had a friend in Padma, and in Draco. 

            Yeah, my life had sucked in the past, but it was beginning to get better. The sun was beginning to come out of the clouds, and things were looking up. 

            I turned to Harry, in gave a small, quivering smile. "I know," I whispered. 

**Author's Note 2:** I know I've gotten a few reviews wondering if this was true – I have to say that yes, some is true that I've encountered in my life. Nothing as drastic as Hermione's loneliness, but I've felt some of the emotions she has in this story. People I thought as friends who ended not being, people I hardly spoke to ended up being my truest friends… **shrugs** It's life, cycles that we go through. In case anyone was wondering, the music that set the mood for this chapter was Enigma, "Gravity of Love", "Return to Innocence" and "Adiemus". 


	5. Chapter V: Still on Your Side

MissMatched

Kneazle

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All characters, places, etc. belong to JK Rowling, Scholastics, etc. "Longview" is owned by Green Day, from the CD "Dookie", and "You Gotta Be" is by Des'Ree. Savage Garden, BB Mak, and other song titles by these groups belong to their record company, etc.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: All Hermione wanted to be was popular, well liked, and considered "cool" – anything but the bookworm that she was labeled. Now, in her final year at Hogwarts, can she achieve that or is everything just mismatched?

Author's Notes: Please note that this story is **FIRST PERSON**, a.k.a., all in **HERMIONE'S POV**. Thanks for understanding! ~ Kneazle

CHAPTER FIVE: _Still on Your Side_

                After that night, I began to look at things differently; from looking at myself harder in the mirror, to when people spoke to me when we had a conversation. Something had changed in me, and I didn't know how or when… I just know something did, and I wasn't the same girl – no, woman – I had been when I started Hogwarts, or even started my final year here. 

                April melted away into May, where storm showers showed up, with the sun breaking through the clouds, like a sign or something. Warm weather was on its way, and so were NEWTs and graduation. 

                I may have been scared, but I never let it show, as Head Girl. I was far too busy with many other things. I barely saw Ginny nowadays, and though Ron was in a few of my classes, I never spared him a second glance. He would sit next to Harry and an empty seat, the seat where I used to sit. 

                I didn't need to be bothered with name calling anymore. I was happy with myself, and I had enough self-confidence to get around with my head high. Nothing to could drag me down now – I wouldn't let anyone do it.

                However, I was still unsure about myself in certain aspects – like my looks for one, but that's nothing a couple charms and a talk with Padma, her twin Parvati and Lavender Brown couldn't fix. 

                So, with my mind running amuck with Head Girl duties I needed to do, talking to Padma later, going to Hogsmeade with Harry tomorrow, and all, I had failed to notice Ginny leaning against the gray Hogwarts wall in the corridor off of the Great Hall.

                "He fancies you."

                Startled, I turned to face the youngest Weasley, who was looking at me under long bangs that covered her eyes. I raised an eyebrow. 

                "Who, Ginny?" I asked. I had avoided talking to her and Ron for the past month, but I can tell that something wasn't right when _they_ start talking to _me_. After all, it was a well-known fact now that they hated me as much as Draco probably hated Harry. Though, I think they're just doing it now for publicity. Or something like that. 

                "You sure are dumb if you don't know," she laughed bitterly. 

                I nodded. "Right, that's what they all say. If that's the case though, at least there _is_ someone to fancy me… unlike yourself?" I raised another eyebrow and nodded again in her direction. "Weasley," I said as a closure. 

                "Wait!" she called after me, running to catch up at my rapid pace. Some Hufflepuffs whispered as I passed them, and a few Ravenclaws waved; I wove back. 

                I ignored her, continuing to walk. 

                "Mudblood, stop walking this instant!" she tried, knowing she would get a rise out of me. I did stop, but glanced over my shoulder at her. 

                "Don't you ever get tired of it? Of knowing you were wrong?" I asked, exasperated. The redhead bit her lip, before jutting her chin out. 

                "If you don't know, I don't care. I don't know why I even tried to talk to you," she finally said, sneering the last part. 

                "Neither do I," I replied before turning on my heel and leaving her standing alone in the middle of the Front Hall. 

                On my last day of classes (when we were given a free period), I found myself sitting with my chin in my hands, staring out of the classroom window. 

                People in my transfiguration Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff were running rampant, asking Professor Flitwick for some last minute exam questions, or just goofing off, gossiping with their friends. I sat next to Padma, with Hannah Abbott and Lisa Turpin near the back of the classroom. They were talking about what they were planning on doing this summer, and what they were going to do once they were out of Hogwarts. 

                "… I'm thinking of going to Salem Academy," said Hannah, boating proudly. "I already got accepted – I have my letter here too… I wanted to ask Professor Dumbledore if he thinks its best for me."

                "I'm sure it is," murmured I, softly. My brain was a million miles away, but I had always some conscious part of myself in the conversation. I had perfected this many, many years ago but hardly ever had the chance to use it. 

                "I'm traveling to Saudi Arabia with Parvati this summer, before going to Bangkok, to end the trip. After that, I'm thinking of becoming a cosmetic personnel at Gladrag's giant superstore in London," said Parvati wistfully. 

                Lisa added, "I'm going to Stockholm to learn Muggle journalism, since I'm a half-ling. As much as I love the wizardring world, I don't think I could continue living in it."

                I barely heard a word of what the three of them had said. I was more concerned about myself. What was I going to do, in my future? I was brilliant at everything, and had a chance to do anything I wanted. Professor, journalist, author, work at the ministry, or… or do what I've always wanted. My dream… a simple dream. 

                "Hermione?"

                I could go into the dream field of what I wanted… and then things would look up. After all, I had friends, and enough self-confidence to last me enough for the rest of my days on the world. I knew that Harry wanted to become an Auror, he still had to fight Voldemort in the coming war, but we couldn't think about that right now. We had to think about _here_ and _now_, and not the _future_. Yes, it could be grim, but things will still turn out fine if we let them. 

                Draco, I found out later, wanted to actually go into animal taming, working in the wild and enjoying controlling animals. I think Harry mentioned that Ron's brother, Charlie was a dragon tamer in the wilds of Romania. Draco paled at that, and said that perhaps the most dangerous creature he'd end up working with was an upset wizard or witch in the Ministry of Magic. 

                Those two had become my two closest friends. I treasured every second spent with them, and took everything they said to me to heart. I loved them both, and cared for them both the way I had never cared for anyone else before. Harry had my trust and when I thought he betrayed it he was there… and that made me admire him. Draco was there and understood me when no one else was, and kept me sane in my darkest hours. They were still on my side, and would never leave me. I knew that from the moment that night back in January happened. 

                They would be there for me, always.

                "Hermione!"

                "What?" I snapped to attention, aware Padma was laughing and calling my name. I glanced up at her, confused. 

                "You were in your own little world, Mione. Class is over. Let's get back to the common room. It's time to study," she said, smiling softly. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and glanced back at me. "Coming?" she asked, the invitation clear and open. 

                I stood, nodding. "Always."

                I left the common room with my head swimming in waves of knowledge, on the morning of one of my last exams. It was advanced charms, a class that I shared with a handful of Ravenclaws, Gryffindors and Slytherins. Draco, Harry and a few other Slytherin and Gryffindors I spoke to frequently were in that class. 

                As I stepped into the charms classroom, my hands trembling slightly, I realized that after this, I would no longer be learning or writing another exam for Hogwarts. My last exam, my last test, my last time in this classroom… a bunch of "lasts" flashed before my eyes and I felt the first waves of panic reach the pit of my stomach. 

                _I'm not ready to leave just yet!_ Something screamed in my head. I must have panicked more than I thought, because I hadn't realized I had frozen up. 

                "All right there, Hermione?" a male voice asked that I knew very well. I turned my head grindingly towards Harry, offering him a quivering smile. 

                "Not really," I said, giving a shaky laugh. "This is my last exam… and… well, I'm scared."

                Harry gave me a warm smile, placing a hand on my shoulder. Warmth radiated from it, and his presence calmed me down. 

                "So I am, but I think right now, I'm more concerned with passing this exam and what's on tonight's menu for dinner than what is going to happen in a week when school is over," he laughed lightly. "I know you'll do fine, you're the smartest witch in our year. Whatever happens, if I don't get a chance to say this later – it was an honor knowing you and being your friend. I would never regret it, nor forget it."

                I smiled graciously and felt the panic leaving my body. "Thanks Harry." I gave him a quick hug, but he held on longer than he could have. 

                "Aw, what, don't I get a hug too?" came Draco's voice; he had arrived to the classroom, a few minutes before our exam was to start. 

                I laughed, pulled away from Harry and hugged Draco too, wishing him good luck. 

                "A Malfoy doesn't need luck, we're born with it," he replied smugly, puffing his chest out a bit. Both Harry and I laughed along with Draco, before taking our assigned seats.

                Professor Flitwick handed out the tests on parchment face down, and gave us anti-cheating quills to write with. 

                I gripped the quill tightly with my right hand, flashing Harry and Draco a shaky smile; both offered smiles and Harry sent me a thumbs-up. I looked up at Flitwick, watching him watch the clock that was above the door. 

                "You may begin your exam… now," he said, looking down at us from his pile of books on his chair. 

                I gulped inaudibly, flipped my exam over, and stared at the first question.

                _In the magical world, the Apollionous charm is used for what purpose? Explain why._

                I felt myself relaxing; I knew this. As I wrote down my answer and moved to the next question, I was at ease, and didn't think about what the next week was going to bring. Like Harry was told by Hagrid in his fourth year, what will come will come, and we'll just have to meet it when it does. 

                Two hours and a half later, I exited the charms classroom, stretching and talking about the exam with my two friends on either side of me. 

                "Ms. Granger? A word please," came a voice behind me. Breaking out into a cold sweat, I saw Professor Dumbledore standing behind us. He nodded politely at Draco and Harry, before motioning for myself to follow him. Saying I would see them later, I followed Professor Dumbledore into his office, sitting down in one of his leather chairs. 

                "Sir?" I asked, frowning slightly. I hadn't done anything wrong, had I? I hadn't failed anything, right?

                "Ms. Granger, do not worry yourself. Your scholarly marks are just fine. I actually came to you to wonder if you'd accept the role of being this year's valedictorian," offered Dumbledore, smiling, with his blue eyes twinkling. 

                "S-Sir," I stuttered, staring at him. "But… why me?" I finally sighed out. Why indeed, I wondered. All I had were marks, and that's not the valedictorian was known for. Marks, friends, and popularity… those were characteristics that Dumbledore should have been looking for. I was just the bookworm-know-it-all.

                "You really have no idea, do you, Hermione?" he asked, almost sadly. A kind, almost sad smile graced his face. 

                "Know what, sir?" I asked again, confused. 

                "You've changed, Ms. Granger. I've been watching you since you arrived at Hogwarts. You were once shy, quiet and reserved, keeping to yourself. I watched you mature, watched you inhale all that knowledge you craved for. Books were your friends, your escape from the harsh reality the other students created and placed you in. 

                "But something changed. You became harder, stronger, learning not to trust others so blindly, or follow them without asking questions. You changed, Hermione Granger, leaving your insecure, shy self behind as another person began to take place, shaping her future into something strong and reliable… not something that had once been a dream and something that was easily dismissed as being to hard to achieve.

                "At the beginning of this year, you were much like what you were when you first came to Hogwarts… then you befriended Ms. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter. I watched your face smile and beam with happiness every time they spoke to you. I watched your face when Ginny Weasley turned you away the night of the Yule Ball – I watched how you wanted acceptance from them, to be part of their friendship that was once tighter that glue. And then… I saw the caterpillar begin to morph. 

                "You decided not to take their harsh words anymore, Hermione, and began to stand up for yourself. Enter Mister Malfoy, proud and arrogant… the two of you were two peas in a pod, both seeking approval and need to feel special. You found each other… and then Mister Potter found the two of you.

                "You learned to stand up for yourself, believe in yourself, and take no nonsense from the other students. You don't seem to realize what this has done to yourself. When you look in the mirror, you still see that shy, lost girl. You have yet to realize that that shy, little caterpillar has now transformed into a beautiful, strong and intelligent butterfly, spreading its wings. 

                "You are a strong, self-reliant woman, Ms. Granger, and I know that however hard times may be for you, you will always pull through, stronger than before. That is why I asked you to be year valedictorian. It was because you are strong, selfless, intelligent, and yes – even popular. You _are_ Head Girl, you know." As Professor Dumbledore's speech came to a close, I found myself staring at him dumbstruck. Was all that he was saying true? I could hardly imagine it to be. 

                "Don't believe me?" he asked gently. He then turned slightly and pointed at something behind a cupboard door. "Go… take a peek."

                I stood, walking slowly over to the place he was pointing at. I opened the cupboard and found myself staring at my reflection – but something was different. My face was longer, and somewhat stronger, with cool but confident eyes, a smiling mouth and tilted chin, facing up. Looking back at me was a face of a woman who was completely sure and at ease with herself. This surely couldn't be _me_?

                As if reading my thoughts, Dumbledore said softly, "That is you, my dear… your very reflection. Do you see those words above the mirror's face? _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_… I show not your face, but your heart's desire."

                "Are you saying that this is what I want to be? My heart's desire?" I asked, tilting my head and seeing my reflection do the same. 

                "Yes and no, Hermione. You see, you desire nothing at the moment. So as much as you wished that was what your heart desired, you fail to realize that that _is_ you. You reached all of your desires. You want nothing out of life, and ask nothing of it."

                "So that is me," I whispered. "Not what I wanted to achieve in life."

                "It is you, and it is also someone you wanted to be. You've done both," replied Dumbledore, standing behind me. 

                "And what do you see, sir, when you look in this mirror?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me. 

                "Socks. One can never have enough socks," laughed Dumbledore. 

                I graduated out of Hogwarts at the top of my class, with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy following me closely behind in marks. I said my speech with ease and confidence, knowing that I would always cherish and look back on my years at Hogwarts, though not always the best of times, I learnt to live with it and enjoy the better parts. 

                I had thought about what I wanted to do during the last week of Hogwarts, and after much talk with my Professors, I realized that my dreams of becoming an author was what I wanted to do. So I set myself up at home and wrote. And wrote, and wrote. About my life, about Hogwarts, and my philosophies of life. About… me and everything in between, really. 

                How was I supposed to know that _The Face in the Mirror_ would become a bestseller? So here I am now, twenty-four and sitting outside Diagon Alley's Ice Cream parlor, waiting for Harry and Draco. We had agreed to meet and talk about what has happened since we all left Hogwarts. 

                I still keep in touch with Padma, who is working at Gladrag's now, enjoying herself and working part time. I only see Ginny and Ron sometimes, when I stop by the Ministry to talk to friends or pop in at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes (or 3W for short) in Hogsmeade or the Diagon Alley branch. Those pranks remind me so much of my days back at Hogwarts. 

                "Hermione?" a voice asks and I turn, smiling at Draco. Still pale, tall and blond, Draco hasn't changed much from our teenager days. 

                "How are you?" I ask, hugging my friend. He sits down across from me, flashing the waitress a smile before ordering triple fudge. "Still the chocolate lover, I see."

                "Yes, I am," he replies. I ask him what he has been up to, and he says he works for the animal protection agency with the Ministry. He says he loves it and wouldn't give it up for the world. He is also very will off with his inheritance that Lucius left him when he died two years ago, in the Wizard War. 

                Harry had been on the front lines, with Draco and a few others, including myself. My two best friends going off to war without me? I couldn't leave them to be slaughtered and I went along, glad that I did. Dumbledore had been right, all those years ago. I was strong, and when I overcame the obstacles and horrors of that war, I was stronger than ever. 

                "I see I'm the late one this time," laughs another male voice, and Harry sits down between the two of us. We are all laughing and smiling, talking about how life is, family, and everything under the moon. It isn't until I realize that there are two redheads looking at us strangely and that they are really Ginny and Ron. 

                I stand and wave them over. Let bygones be bygones, my book preaches, and I follow that strongly. "Come! Come join us!" I call. They hesitantly walk over, sitting beside Harry and away from Draco and myself. 

                "Hello," Ron says awkwardly. I smile and ask him how life is. He readily jumps into a conversation with me about my book and how he is now working with his father in the ministry. It is apparent that he has let bygones be bygones, judging by his open voice and wide, excited eyes. Yet Ginny is more guarded, quiet as we all speak. 

                "I'm sorry," she blurts out suddenly, making me jump. 

                "Pardon?" I asked, glancing at her.

                "I'm sorry," she repeats, and it's now that I know that I never lost her as a friend, but had her hidden away somewhere. She had been merely misguided in her own quest of self-discovery… and had made mine difficult. She hadn't meant to, but did. I still forgave her, but things would never be the same again. Things were too different; I was different, she was different. 

                "Apology accepted," I say, smiling at her, and soon we are all chatting until the sun sets in the distance and Diagon Alley's pubs light up the streets. We make plans to meet again soon, and all walk away, Harry and I going in the same direction. 

                "If you don't mind," starts Harry; "I would like to make another meal date with you, but just the two of us."

                "As in a date?" I ask, smiling knowingly at Harry. Shocked, the ebony haired young man pauses mid step before jogging a bit to catch up with me. 

                "W-well, yes, yes, if you'd like to," he says. I smile and nod at him. 

                "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world," I answer, and we hug, promising to write soon by owl post. 

                As I apparate to my flat in London, throwing my jacket on a couch and flopping down on after it, I think reflect on my life. So much had changed from when I started my life to now. Ginny, Ron, Harry, Pansy even, and Draco… they all taught me something about myself. Though I might not be on the best terms with every one of them, or even friends, they shaped me and helped mold me to who I am now. 

                Life isn't going to be perfect, but life is what you make of it. It's how you present yourself to the world, how you take things with stride and how you believe in yourself. You can't sit back and take the crap that people hurl at you, slashing you down into nothing when you are a something. You have two choices when this happens: sit back and take the abuse, or revolt and prove that you are something and not to be messed with. Everyone is a something that deserves to be known and recognized.   
                As Edmund Dante said in the Muggle film, **The Count of Monte Cristo**, _"Life is a storm, my young friend; you will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next, what makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look in that storm and shout as you did in Rome, '_Do your worst, for I will do mine_!' Then the fates will know you as we know you… as Albert Mondego, a man."_

                I looked into that storm, and shout as I did, "Do your worst, and I will do mine!" and then the fates did know me, as you and the rest of the world know me, as Hermione Granger… a witch with a future ahead of her. 

FIN

AN: So "MissMatched" is done. Although the title didn't really fit with the story, I thought it was still good, representing what Hermione thought of her life… not matching properly. Anyway, leave a review. There won't be a sequel, because, well, I think this story ending well. Yes, she and Harry are getting together; he did ask her out at the end, didn't he?

Hermione went through a lot in her last year at Hogwarts, and overcame all of her obstacles, but not without hardship and pain. That's life, and no matter what, things happen that are beyond our control, but take _The Count of Monte Cristo's_ quote to heart; remember it when you need to… and then the fates will know.


End file.
